Rogue Liberator

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Lieutenant Commander Reza Jazani gulped tea and burned his tongue. He pressed the porcelain cup into its holder and inhaled to cool his mouth. “Damn it.”

His executive officer, a small-framed lieutenant in his late twenties, glanced up from a computer console. “Sir?”

Jazani waved him off. “I was talking to myself.”

“Right, sir.”

Reflecting upon the waning and uneventful three-week patrol within the cramped confines of Ghadir-957, Jazani glanced at a sonar display for evidence of an elusive enemy. The United States Navy kept its surface ships out of Iranian waters, and its stealthy Virginia-class submarines evaded detection. Sighing, he doubted he’d detect any hidden nautical trespassers.

Seated forward of the Ghadir’s commander, a thin man kept his nose in a display while speaking. “The dolphins have acquired a submerged contact.”

Unaware the cetaceans were within acoustic range of his submarine, Jazani was surprised. “You’re sure?”

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